The King's Relief
by RixxiSpooks
Summary: Merlin is abused by Uther almost daily and no one else has any idea. Dark. Graphic. Angst. Merlin/Arthur. Rape.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note - Okay, this isn't quite dark but very dark. It is rated M for a reason. I've never really written anything this graphic before so constructive critism is welcome. This is a taster; call it a prologue sort of thing, and if I get enough interest I'll continue. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, well, enjoy isn't exactly the right word but still....read and review!**

Merlin was on his knees – again. He could feel the hard wood through the material of his trousers, rough and unyielding. He wouldn't be surprised if he found splinters in his legs later. His slim arms fell down by his sides and his hands were balled into two tight fists – that was his way of controlling his emotions. Otherwise he didn't think he would be able to do this, he would have been broken (not that he wasn't already, no self respecting man would do this willingly). This had been going on for a long time though and he'd grown used to it, almost immune. It was pretty much a daily occurrence – part of his job.

Breathing heavily through his nose, the young servant boy tried to ignore the object in his mouth. The huge, hot, wet object that thrust continually in and out of his throat, making him gag and want to be sick. He had to suck though, if he didn't he would be punished. A fierce hand gripped the hair on the back of his head, practically tearing it from his scalp, but he even if he whimpered it would not be heard through the thick member in his mouth.

Above him, his eyes closed and his lips slightly open with euphoria, the King of Camelot pumped his hard, erect penis further than seemed physically possible into Merlin's mouth. This was his escape, his way of releasing pent up emotions, by spilling his semen onto a serving boy's tongue. Whenever he was stressed and needed an outlet then he would summon Merlin – his relief.

The boy was sickened by his job; it was disgusting and wrong but what could he say against the King? If the King told you to do something you did it without a question. The first time it had happened, Merlin had been reluctant to say the least, but Uther had forced him. There wasn't a choice.

Uther's breath was coming in quick, fast gasps which meant he had almost reached his climax. He opened his eyes just enough to glimpse the raven head of the boy between his legs and then he toppled over the edge into ecstasy.

With a quiet _pop_, Merlin released the spent member in his mouth and wiped his wet lips on his sleeve. He could still taste the older man's essence on his tongue and it revolted him. When he had time he would swill water round his mouth over and over and over and over again. That was the only way he could hope to begin getting rid of the flavour.

"You have done well, boy," Uther murmured, contented, "You may leave now. Come tomorrow at the same time."

"Yes, your highness," the servant boy whispered and left the Royal Bedroom as quickly as possible, his legs feeling weak and wobbly – as they always did – beneath him.

* * *

As he made his way down the corridor to the Court Physician's chambers, he kept his eyes glued to the floor and therefore did not notice the person step out in front of him until it was too late. With a painful thud he collided with the obstacle.

"Merlin, you idiot! Are you blind as well as stupid?" Arthur's tone was teasing and friendly but his manservant was really not in the mood for jokes. He felt dirty and violated; he just wanted to be alone. The boy remained silent, still unconsciously attempting to pass his master. "Merlin?" The Prince's voice was softer now, concerned at his friend's lack of response. He reached out and touched Merlin gently on the shoulder and was shocked when the younger man lurched back from his touch, his entire frame quivering like a coiled spring.

"Just, please, my lord, I need some time….alone. I will do whatever you want but just give me ten minutes," Merlin pleaded quietly. His pastel-blue eyes were hazy with tears and he really didn't want the Prince to witness him crying. Therefore, without even waiting for an answer he pushed by the stunned Arthur and hurried off to his chamber. The Prince of Camelot stared after him confused and more than a little worried. He wanted to find out whatever had affected his friend in such a way.

Merlin scrubbed roughly at his mouth, not caring how much skin he took of in the process, anything to make him clean again. The coarse scouring pad in his hand was the perfect washing equipment for after each session with the King. It had served him well many times. Once the skin around his lips was pink and raw looking, the young man stopped and assessed his reflection in the mirror. What he saw gazing back at him wasn't who he wanted to be but there seemed nothing he could do to change that. With a sigh, Merlin put down the pad and went in search of Arthur. He had promised to be back at work in ten minutes after all.


	2. Chapter 2

****

Thank you very much for the reviews. I told you it would be dark to those who went 'whoa, what the hell?!' This chapter may be even worse so don't read if you don't want. Its supposed to be angsty and graphic and hurt. I have forewarned you.

**On a light note. How cool was the last episode. Merlin and Arthur soo cute!**

**P.S. to anyone who read this before I changed it sorry for confusion. :S**

Merlin tried to smile. He tried to laugh and jibe and tease but it was all fake; a charade which he put on daily in an attempt to return things to the norm, to get on with his pathetic excuse for a life. When his master threw a joke his way he would reply smartly but that was only because it was automatic, there was no feeling behind the words. Sometimes he wondered how long he could maintain the façade, how long could he really keep his dirty, little secret? Despite not knowing this, what he did know was that if someone did discover him then he would most likely shatter into a thousand pieces that could never be fixed.

A blade glanced by him and he dodged it instinctively, everything seemed to slow down slightly in time for him to move safely. His mind was still elsewhere when he felt someone knock impatiently on the top of his helmet. He jumped, startled and a little fearful. A pair of irritated sky-blue eyes stared him down.

"Merlin!"

"Arthur," he said simply in return.

"What is wrong with you today?" Arthur's voice was authoritative, as if ordering to spill all his thoughts and feelings – his innermost secrets. He yanked his own shiny, metal helmet off his head and threw it carelessly to the ground. All Merlin could think was that he would have to polish that tonight, to get the dirt off. With a shake of his head, he swept his blonde hair out of his face.

"Nothing," Merlin frowned, he wasn't aware he was doing anything abnormal, in fact he was taking great care in being as regular as possible. He may be a tad inattentive but he thought he was making up for that in his swordsmanship. That really seemed to be improving.

"Nothing? Merlin, you have been dodging my blows for the last fifteen minutes straight. I can't even land one hit. Since when have you become so agile and quick? In fact, are you really Merlin, are you not some imposter?" The Prince looked at him in a scrutinising manner. To be honest, despite his commands and accusations, Arthur was more interested in finding out what was up with his manservant than why he was suddenly so good at sparring.

"I have? Surely that's a good thing, Sire, isn't it?" The boy frowned in confusion.

"I suppose," Arthur sighed. He watched his friend for a moment, judging. "I think we'll finish now."

Merlin looked very relieved. The tense and slightly pained look on his face that he'd maintained the entire practice dissipated as if a load had been taken off his shoulders. Arthur couldn't help feel a bit offended. Was training with him really that bad? Did Merlin not like spending time with him at all? Because the young Prince certainly enjoyed passing the time with his manservant, he was usually such good company, unlike many of the man's other friends who were 'yes and no' men more than anything. He could never get a proper rise or conversation from them, they just agreed with everything he said. With Merlin he could argue and he loved it. However, in the past few weeks the boy had been quiet and withdrawn. It was obvious to Arthur that he was trying to hide it but the Prince was more observant than most people believed. How could he not see his friend was suffering?

Completely unaware of his master's worries and anxieties, the young warlock gathered up the few weapons that had been discarded on the ground throughout the session and began to trudge back up to the castle. He was so happy to be out of Prince Arthur's presence. It wasn't that he disliked Arthur; he liked him a lot. That was part of the problem. But he constantly felt on edge, waiting for the discovery that was bound to come, some slip of the tongue on his part (he wasn't usually very good at keeping his mouth shut after all). It wasn't only the lurking terror of detection but also the mere fact that Arthur reminded him so much of Uther. They were father and son; of the same blood. That was made it strange and even more repulsive because Merlin always wondered what the Prince would think of him – a man even younger than himself – giving the King pleasures. It was unthinkable.

The boy found that he had reached the armoury. His legs seemed to have taken the path without him even being aware of it. So he dumped the items in their various places and headed back to the physician's chambers. By his calculation it was the end of the day and therefore he would not have to do any more errands until tomorrow. That was unless the King decided to call for his services during the night. It wasn't something unheard of.

* * *

He leant with his elbow resting on the table. It had been there for quite some time now and little prickles of cramp were threatening to envelop the limb. Still he couldn't be bothered to move it yet. He was unsure of the time; it could be any for all he knew, though he did have an inkling that it was past midnight. He had gone to bed around eleven he seemed to remember and slept for a small amount before waking from a restless nightmare which he could now not recall. What he did remember was that it had been quite terrifying and he had been glad to escape into wakefulness.

Now though, he would give anything to be asleep once more, but there were too many thoughts circulating his mind. They buzzed incessantly and refused to allow him peace. Therefore he was destined to remain awake for the rest of the night it seemed. However, despite being forced to maintain consciousness, he decided that there was no point moping around in his room. He may as well go for a wander that may help ease his thoughts.

Padding quietly through the deserted hallways and corridors, he was pleasantly aware of the fact that the rest of the inhabitants of the castle were fast asleep. Slumbering peacefully; undisturbed. The servants especially would be glad of this rest from all their daily duties. He was alone in his sleeplessness – which was good.

As he turned a corner he heard a voice. It was indistinguishable but definitely a person's sound. Obviously he was not the only one awake. That seemed strange in itself and he determined to investigate. Creeping farther down the empty passage he followed the muffled noises until he realised he had stumbled into the King's own quarters. Was Uther himself struggling with insomnia? It would be surprising.

A wooden door that led into the King's bedroom hung slightly ajar and with a sudden, unquenchable curiosity, he moved forward. Pushing the door open gently with his fingertips, he waited tensely for it to creak; fortunately no sound gave him away. Aware that what he was doing was wrong, spying on the King; he persisted anyway, overcome with the need to _know_. Looking back he may have cursed his need.

It was now that the voices became clear but he could see no one in his line of vision.

"Boy, you will do this for your King."

"I can't."

"Of course you can, don't be difficult."

"My lord, truly, I _can't_!" The second, quieter voice pleaded, the voice was familiar but he couldn't place it. "_Please_ don't make me. _Please_."

"Lie down, boy; it will only hurt for a moment." The King's voice was growing impatient. "You _will _serve your King." There was a small whimper of protest.

He tiptoed farther into the room in order to see what was going on. The sight that met his eyes froze him to the spot: unable to move. Sprawled across the huge double bed, quilted with Pendragon red, lay a prone figure, face down, pinned by none other than the King of Camelot. Both were naked from the waist down. In the dim light coming from the torches illuminating the area, Uther's rigid penis was in full few, parting pale cheeks.

Arthur gasped. "Merlin!" Seeing his friend lying on the bed with his _own _father bearing down upon him. A pair of scared blue eyes met his own. The manservant looked positively mortified.

**Duh, duh, duuh, sorry for the bit at the end. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm not sure I got Arthur in character this chapter - I operated under the notion that he was angry so he was allowed to speak like he did. Other than that I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**Thanks very much for all the reviews! They make me happy! My heart leaps everytime I see emails in my inbox, it lets me know my story is being enjoyed despite how dark and unusual it is and I haven't gone too crazy and scared everyone off!**

Merlin felt broken; like he had been torn right down the centre of his body. The pain was excruciating: a burning, searing agony that would not go away. He had been sure it was only get worse as his King penetrated further but then someone entered the room. This was not just any someone; however, this was the most awful person imaginable to discover him in such a compromising position. The young, golden-haired and previously very innocent Arthur Pendragon stared in outright horror at the scene that had soiled his mind – most likely for life. Merlin felt disgusting; the lowest creature on this god-given earth.

Fortunately, the only good to come of the interruption, it seemed, was that the King withdrew swiftly. The warlock could breathe a sigh of relief as the pressure and immense pain died down to be replaced with a sharp but bearable stinging sensation. His heart continued to thrum against his ribs, even so and his breathing was short and rasping.

"Arthur!" Uther said, half shocked, half angry. His tone was accusing, as if his son was in the wrong. To preserve his dignity, the man sheathed his drooping member in a pair of trousers which he'd yanked off the floor. He felt better once this was done – less vulnerable.

"Father," Arthur's own tone was stiff and unfeeling. He looked from his father to his friend, who was desperately trying to scramble off the bed and grab his clothes. Being the typical clumsy Merlin that he was, however, he managed to trip whilst stepping into his breeches. The Prince was in no mood to laugh though, there were too many thoughts whizzing round his head. It took enough energy to school his expression and his voice into one worthy of royalty when all he really wanted to do was burst.

"What are you doing here?" Uther managed to somehow skip over the fact he had just been caught doing something no King should engage in. It must have something to do with years of experience at being in control and never to blame. Nevertheless, it seemed to tip his son over the edge he had been struggling so hard not to fall off. When Arthur did fall, however, it was sudden and very explosive.

"_What_?! – what am _I _doing here?!" The young man was livid. He didn't think he'd ever felt this angry and he didn't even really know why. His conscience whispered quietly at the back of his mind 'It's because it's Merlin'. That may truly be the reason in actual fact for Arthur wasn't completely naïve and oblivious to everything his father got up to. It hadn't escaped his notice that the King stopped sending for young girls awhile back and it seemed to be the occasional boy he took into the depths of his chambers. The Prince had tried to ignore his antics – he was the ruler of the Camelot, he could do what he wanted. Still, he never ever thought it would be Merlin that Uther used for his dirty deeds – it hadn't even crossed his mind – and now he realised it was _actually _happening he was furious. Both at himself for not noticing, not protecting his friend, and at his father, for humiliating the manservant. "I think the more important issue here _Father_ is the fact that you seem to be forcing a young _man_ – my manservant in fact – " Arthur added under his breath "to do something both wrong in the eyes of God and mankind and something he does not wish to partake in. My lord!" He said the last part with loathing.

Uther stared at him was startled grey eyes. To begin with he gaped at his son's vicious words but then he managed to regain his kingly composure and his eyes hardened like granite. The wrinkles on his forehead furrowed.

"I don't think you have the right to speak to me like that, Arthur; don't forget who you are addressing." His tone was severe as he observed his fuming son with cool indifference. Yes, he had been surprised when the boy had walked in on them but he would have to learn sooner or later. That was life. It was not all niceties.

"I…" The Prince began, his aggressive stance weakening. This was not because he had heeded to the King's word, as Uther believed, it was because he'd just caught sight of the sad, pleading eyes of his friend who was now fully dressed. It was obvious he did not want to remain in the room listening to the argument. He just wanted to be gone and the only way he could leave was with permission. Therefore he needed the two of them to stop fighting. Arthur, aware of how much turmoil Merlin had undergone, knew it was better for him to back down in an argument he was not going to win – for now – and that would cause the manservant even more embarrassment. "I'm _sorry_, sire, I will take my leave now. Merlin, come."

The Prince had reached out to take his servant's arm but the boy rushed passed him, shrugging off the touch, before slipping out of the open door and down the corridor. Arthur shot his father one last venomous look which fortunately Uther did not catch as he had turned back to his ruined bed and then charged after his fast vanishing friend. By the time he entered the passage, though, Merlin had disappeared. Arthur contemplated going in search of him: on the one hand the boy may not even want to see his face after what he had just witnessed but on the other, Merlin probably needed someone to comfort him now – a friend. The golden haired man plumped for the later option and set off in the direction he believed the warlock to have gone in.

* * *

Merlin had to lean against the wall for support, drawing strength from the cool, hard stone which brought him back to earth. He was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe – he was hyperventilating. Each shuddering lungful of air he took just didn't seem to suffice. Much to his further shame, he could feel hot, salty tears leaking from his eyes, wetting his dark lashes, and trickling down his cheeks. A huge lump had lodged itself in his throat that made him want to be physically sick.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. It was too unbearable to think about. The horror and the disgrace of the last few minutes came back to his with vivid and awful clarity. The look that he had witnessed etched onto Arthur's face could not be erased. All he had seen in those smoky-blue eyes was repulsion and hate – he was sure of it.

As the bile rose from his stomach, Merlin bent over and vomited copiously on the flag-stone floor. Still that did not make him feel better. If anything it made him feel even more unclean. The acidic substance burnt the back of his throat. It didn't hurt anything as much as the stinging down below, however. That pain really was in a league of its own. When he had pulled his trousers up he had seen crimson blood trickling down his legs but hadn't thought anything of it until this moment. Now all he could smell was the coppery tang of blood clinging to his entire being. The warlock wrinkled his nose in revulsion.

Merlin had never been taken from behind like that. He'd served the King many a time for the last few months but never had Uther ordered him to pull his _own _trousers down and lie on the bed like he had tonight. The boy hadn't really known what to expect but when he had seen Uther looming over him he'd realised this kind of service he could never go through with even if the King of Camelot had ordered him to. Even though he'd struggled there had been nothing he could do. He'd thought about using magic against Uther but that would immediately give him away to the King and he was plagued by the idea that it was his destiny to do everything in his power to help and protect Arthur; something he couldn't do if he was executed or banished. Therefore he had finally resigned himself to his fate. That was until the said man himself made his entrance and suddenly everything was a hundred times worse.

It was at that moment that Prince Arthur rounded the corner; his expression desperate. Wanting to escape but trembling with fatigue, shock and pain; Merlin tried to lever himself off the wall which had now become his sole support but his legs gave way and he had to grab it once more to remain upright. By this time his master had seen him and was fast approaching. Defeated, knowing there was no way he had enough strength to get away, Merlin braced himself.

**Don't think this is all going to be over easily guys. I have a lot of angst, guilt, anger, confusion and pain to come! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for the reviews. They were very happily received! Can't believe it is the Christmas holidays! Soooo excited! I'm getting Merlin on DVD as a present! YAAAY!**

Seeing his manservant so completely and utterly crushed – sinking down the wall and onto the floor as he approached - devastated the young prince. The older man felt a sudden rise of anger towards his father rear in his chest but he quelled it. This was no time to approach a very important conversation in that state of mind. Instead, he walked quietly over to where his friend had hunched in an uncomfortable-looking ball at the foot of the wall and sank down quietly beside him. The two sat in silence for a moment.

"Merlin – I…" Arthur began then stopped himself. He didn't know how to word this; it was so hard. Instead he turned to look at his friend with sad eyes. He noticed how Merlin would not even look at him; he had his head facing the other way quite deliberately, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. Once again, the Prince was struck with formidable anger. Here was his young servant, his _friend_, who had been abused terribly by a man at least twenty years his senior if not more. Looking at Merlin now, Arthur observed just _how _small he was, how thin and pale and fragile. He had the delicacy of a piece of porcelain about him – ready to shatter at any moment.

"Merlin, what I'm try to say is…" The golden haired youth tailed off once more, he had never felt this speechless.

"You loathe me, you despise me; I am disgusting and not worthy of your presence?" Merlin whispered his tone bitter.

"NO!" Arthur objected immediately, he stared at his friend in shock at his blunt words. "Never! Merlin, yes, I am disgusted and angered by what has happened but not at you, at my _father_." Still the serving boy would not look at him. He did speak though.

"Really?" His tone was hopeful.

"Yes," the older man replied adamantly. He was finally getting somewhere!

Without thinking, Arthur reached out towards his friend's snow-white cheek and, in a way of trying to show comfort and reassurance, he stroked the soft skin. Merlin jerked away from his touch as if burnt, a betrayed expression in his sky-blue eyes.

"What are you doing?!" He cried in an anguished voice, as if the very last part of his world had just come crashing down upon him. With a speed that Arthur would not have believed possible of the goofy servant, Merlin sprung to his feet and hared down the passageway. All his previous pains and tiredness were forgotten; the warlock just _had _to get away.

The golden haired prince sat for a moment, unsure of what had just happened. One minute he had been comforting his friend and making progress and the next Merlin was gone like a leaf in the wind. The air felt cold without his manservant's presence beside him. He couldn't understand what he had done wrong, all he had done was touched…._touched _him.

Beside himself with anger at his complete stupidity, Arthur whacked his head against the stone wall behind him – wincing on impact. He deserved it though. How could he not have realised touching a young man – stroking, in fact – who had just been sexually assaulted was not the best idea he'd ever thought of? It had been so tempting though, Merlin had looked so vulnerable and Arthur wanted to support him. Obviously that plan had backfired quite spectacularly.

Clambering quickly to his feet, determined to make a better job of helping Merlin the next time he saw him, Arthur caught sight of a chamber maid who had just come into the corridor. She spotted him and froze. She had not expected to see the Prince of Camelot dusting himself off in a deserted passage this early in the morning. Arthur nodded once at her, though, and then departed swiftly. She didn't even have time to question why he had been there in the first place. His abrupt leaving wiped it clean from her mind.

* * *

Merlin was running and running and running and running. He just couldn't stop, his legs were working on automatic; they had their own agenda that was not connected to his brain. So he just kept moving, flying first over rugs, then tiles, then cobbles, then dirt and finally grass. He was hurtling through a field; he could see the cattle grazing there just in his peripheral vision. They watched him disinterestedly: a tatty human, his bare feet caked in mud and his dark raven-black hair ruffled by the wind that lashed by.

He almost tripped over a gnarled root which had broken through the earth's surface as he entered the forest but he managed to regain his balance and just keep on running. There was nothing that could stop him. He was reminded of a time when he had dashed through this woodland before; to save the future king from mortal peril at the hands of the She and another time he had ridden through on a horse, once again to rescue the prince by bargaining his own life. Merlin had an entire list of the times he'd helped Arthur as part of his destiny. One day, when the time was right, maybe he would recite them to him.

Or maybe not, because Merlin wasn't sure whether he ever wanted to speak to the young man again or whether the young man would want to see him. In that corridor, when Arthur was promising him that it didn't matter to him that Merlin had been violated so sordidly and that he blamed Uther, not him, the warlock had felt a bud of hope growing in his heart. After that though, he could just remember the cool fingers brushing his cheek, causing his hairs to stand on end, and he felt ill. What could Arthur have meant by touching him other than to use him in the same way the King had? Like father like son. It sickened Merlin to his very core.

He had trusted Arthur: loved him as a master, loved him as a friend, loved him as a _brother_ but, though he may have once pondered it, how could he ever love the prince as anything else? Not after what he had experienced with the King. It didn't bear thinking about. Even if he did consider what Arthur seemed to be thrusting upon him, he was sure his love would not be reciprocated, the prince merely wanted him like his father did – for pleasure. What hurt Merlin most was that he had attempted such a move when he was down, vulnerable and deeply alone. That stung.

Looking around him, the warlock registered he had now clue as to where he was, all the landmarks blurred and merged into one until they were just a big greenish-brown mess. He suppose now would be the time to stop. Coincidently, as he skidded to a halt, Merlin realised he had come upon a small stream. Maybe now would be a good time to lick his wounds. With a sudden overwhelming tiredness, the boy walked slowly and stiffly over to the water's edge. His relished the cool water as it lapped at his blistered and bloody feet. The relief was what his poor, battered and soiled body needed.

* * *

Uther surveyed the castle grounds with cold eyes. He saw the guards marching across the courtyard ready to change places with the men already on the posts at the gate and several servants hurrying this way and that carrying an assortment of items from bundles of washing to plucked pheasants. This was his kingdom, these were his people, he was just glad that they had no idea what went on behind his closed doors. They would be in for an awful shock. He was pretty certain, however, that his son - no matter how furious he was - would reveal the King's dirty pleasures to the peasants and the manservant wouldn't dream of it. If the serving boy did blab, though, he would find himself hanging from the end of a rope as a punishment for telling terrible 'lies' about his majesty. Uther had complete power.

Despite having complete power over - was his name Merlin? - King Uther could not really expect the boy to return to his service. That was a shame as the ruler of Camelot was sure he was the best whore he'd had. Still, he did not wish to offend his son further. Maybe, though, if he really was desperate for Merlin's perfectly shaped mouth and could do with no other then he could send for the youngster in secret and threaten him with death if he told Arthur. That could work very well.

Smiling inwardly with this new plan in place, Uther summoned the youthful boy who had been hovering uncertainly in the corner of the room over to him. He would have to teach this one well in the meantime...


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the long time taken to update but I've been a bit preoccupied with Christmas! Happy belated Christmas to you all! Thanks for the reviews! And thanks to, Victorian Lyddie for giving me the idea of the boy at the end of this chapter. I hadn't really thought about him - he was just part of the story - but you've made me add a bit more on him. :D Sorry if the chapters a bit short and nothing much happens. Next chapter = lots of angst!**

Arthur didn't find Merlin that day. He searched everywhere: the castle, the town, the outer villages, he even made a trip to Ealdor to see if his friend had returned home. He never saw him. By the end of the long day, as the sun set – a deep red glow fading on the horizon – the prince returned to his chambers, exhausted and saddened.

Neither the next day nor the one after that did he find his manservant; Merlin just never turned up for his duties. He was consulted several times by Gwen and Morgana who wondered where on earth he had gone. Arthur had no answer to give them. On Merlin's third day of absence, the young man took it upon himself to go in search of Gaius and ask him where his ward had gone.

The elderly man was shuffling slowly round his large chambers that were strewn with equipment and books. Merlin had once told him that Gaius called it an 'organised mess'. Quite distracted by something on his workbench that looked suspiciously like the insides of some animal or other, the physician did not notice the quiet knock on the ajar door. Arthur knocked again but there was still no sign the old man had heard. So, with a deep breath, the prince pushed open the wood and stepped in.

"Gaius," he called softly. The said man's head lifted and he turned swiftly to face the intruder in his space.

"Prince Arthur," Gaius stated in greeting, "What brings you here?" As the doctor said this it was obvious both of them knew why he was here.

"I-Gaius…." Arthur trailed off.

"Yes, do you have some ailment you want me to see to? Have you fallen off your horse again? I've told you, you need to be more careful." Gaius was babbling now, an edge of nervousness to his voice.

"Gaius, I think we both know why I'm here," the prince finally said, gently, his sky-blue eyes encouraging, "Do you know where Merlin is?"

"Yes," Gaius replied bluntly. Arthur was quite stunned by his immediate reply.

"But are you going to tell me?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Will _you _tell me what happened? Merlin hasn't breathed a word to me since he came back yesterday. He just told me he's ill and will not be attending you for awhile. I thought he told you."

"So he's here?!" Arthur cried with undisguised hope. The young man surged towards the small wooden door that led to his manservant's bedroom but was stopped by Gaius who put his stocky form in the way.

"You cannot see him. I don't know what happened and if you aren't going to tell me then I suppose I never will but he specifically said he did not want to see you. I'm sorry, your majesty, but you need to leave."

"He's my manservant!"

"I'm not sure he will be for much longer."

"But…." Arthur looked into the stern expression of the court physician and crumbled. If Merlin did not want to see him then why should he barge passed? To be honest, he couldn't really blame the boy – Arthur was probably the last person he wanted to see (after Uther). "I'm going, but I'll be back tomorrow." He told the physician before raising his voice. "You hear that Merlin?! I'll be back tomorrow and the day after and the one after that until you talk to me! I need to see you're all right." With that the youth stormed from the room.

Merlin let his head fall despondently against the wood of the door he was leaning on. He hadn't just heard Arthur's last yelled proclamation – he'd heard everything. Why wouldn't the prince just leave him alone? Yes, they were friends but that was just through the relationship of being servant and master. He didn't Arthur cared about him that much. Not enough to continuously pester him until he talked. Usually Arthur was telling him to _shut up. _

* * *

Arthur was true to his word. Everyday, at the same time the future King of Camelot would shirk his duties to come to the physician's chambers and ask after his absent manservant. The same thing happened each time. Gaius would forbid him entrance and send him away. In reality, if he really wanted, Arthur could order the old man out of his way and force his way through. However, that didn't feel right somehow. He wanted Merlin to _want _to see him. He doubted that would ever happen though.

Whilst he did not have Merlin as his manservant he had received a new one in the form of a youngster called Peter. The boy was only twelve and Arthur knew for certain that he was Uther's new 'plaything'. It disgusted the prince to even think about it now. He'd seen what really went on behind closed doors and the image was burnt onto his mind. Despite not being able to do anything about his father's misdoings, Arthur could be there when Peter came back from the King's chambers - sobbing and shaking and hurting. He felt that in some way he was making amends for what he'd allowed Merlin to go through. It was a very small comfort to the boy but he thought Peter appreciated it.

It was as he was wrapping his large fur coat around the child's trembling shoulders – somewhat dumbfounded at how it swamped his skinny form – that there was a tentative knock at his door. Peter let out a terrified squeak, thinking it may be Uther back for more, but Arthur placed a comforting arm around him and nodded at him with eyes that said 'Nothing will happen, I promise'. Then he turned his attention to the knocker.

"Come in," Arthur called with authority. There was a clunk as the handle twisted and the heavy wood swung open. Standing, looking very apprehensive in the doorway was Merlin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the late update. I've got excuses but I won't bore you with them. Let's just get on with the damn story, eh? Oh and well done to a couple of you for guessing where I was going with this chapter. Maybe I wasn't as subtle as I wanted to be. :D Ooh, and I apologise in advance for my Guard sounding like he's from Somerset! :P Also, come on guys who reviewed the first few chapters, review this one too! **

_Like father; like son. _The bitter thought flashed through Merlin's mind like a fork of vicious lightning. Here was Arthur, sitting on his bed with his arms wrapped around a boy at least eight years his junior. Uther may have one way of making sure he had cooperative toys: force and power; Arthur seemed to have discovered another way to go about his business – grooming. It sickened Merlin to his very core.

He realised that when Arthur discovered he couldn't have him then he had moved onto much easier prey in the form of a child who could only be just hitting puberty. What Uther did with young men – like himself – was wrong but what Arthur was doing was….the warlock couldn't think of a word to describe what he thought of the future king of Camelot. He just couldn't believe that he'd once harboured feelings towards the Prince and that he'd cared for and been completely loyal to him. It was his destiny to protect a child molester!

And here he'd been coming to see what Arthur had been pestering him for. He'd been coming to see if Arthur could explain his actions from that dreadful night. Here was his answer. Without another thought – not being able to bear being in the room – Merlin turned tail and ran. He thought he heard a desperate call of his name echoing down the corridor but he ignored it.

* * *

Arthur had frozen when Merlin had been revealed in the doorway. He hadn't known what to say as he'd been so shocked that his manservant had actually plucked up the courage to come and see him. His heart had warmed slightly at the thought that maybe he could finally apologise for what he'd done – maybe he could repair their damaged relationship. However, that notion was wiped clean away when he saw the expression on Merlin's face change from what had initially been surprise to downright disgust and loathing. Arthur had never thought he'd see those emotions so clearly in Merlin's eyes – not ever – and he had never in a million years have suspected they would be directed at _him_. His world was irrevocably shaken by that look.

The young man stood in the entrance to his prince's room staring at them for what seemed like hours but could only have been a few seconds. Arthur cursed his entire being for its immovability – not one of his limbs would cooperate. Then Merlin fled.

"Merlin!" Arthur scrambled up off the bed, almost knocking Peter over in the process, at this moment in time though he found it hard to care. "Merlin!" He yelled his best friend's name again and again as he hared out of the room.

Heading right out of his bedroom, Arthur wasn't sure where he was going but something – some sixth sense – had pulled him in that direction, like he knew Merlin had gone that way. As he ran he was stunned at the speed with which Merlin must have been running to evade him this quickly. The Prince and knight prided himself on his agility and speed on the battlefield but it was nothing on what Merlin must have considering the manservant was nowhere in sight. He'd never thought his friend was capable of such swiftness and found himself strangely impressed. There was more to Merlin than met the eye.

"Merlin!" He shouted again. He may wake up the entire castle household but, to be honest, he didn't give a damn about them, what he cared about was Merlin. "MERLIN!"

He rounded the corner of the staircase he was currently clattering down and bumped straight into someone. They went sprawling out in front of him. There was a tremendous thud as 'the someone' hit the floor and Arthur groaned inwardly as he realised who it was.

"Father?"

"What on earth is the meaning of this?" Uther hissed angrily, sitting up and rubbing a bashed elbow. His eyes were narrow slits as he surveyed his son. "Answer me, Arthur! Why are you running amok in the castle _at night_, yelling at the top of your lungs and making a complete an utter fool of yourself?"

Arthur was seeing red and finding it very hard to control what he really wanted to do. Therefore he still refrained from opening his mouth for fear of what would come out. He remained silent.

"Have you no honour?" Uther practically growled.

"I have plenty of honour, my lord. It is you with your sordid affairs and dirty little secrets that has no honour!" Arthur retorted, finally snapping, and, giving his father no time to retaliate, he sprinted away. Blood rushed in his veins and his heart beat wildly against his ribs at what he had just done. Still, he had to find Merlin…

* * *

Even if he was a warlock, he still had to stop sometime and Merlin found himself slowing to an undignified stop just at the castle gates. Out of breath and therefore panting heavily, the young man found himself being stared at interestedly by two guards who were posted at the gate. One of them raised a bushy eyebrow at him. It was reasonably dark, though the moon was almost full tonight and casting an ethereal blue glow on everything, so Merlin was certain they had recognised him as Prince Arthur's manservant. That would not help if Arthur was to pass by here later and question them. There was nothing he could do though to maintain their silence though as he had no money on him or even in general so the only thing to do was keep going. Willing his exhausted body on, Merlin jogged off. He just needed to make it to the forest, then he'd be safe.

* * *

"Have you seen my manservant? His name is Merlin," Arthur added the last part because he felt bad just referring to Merlin as his manservant. He was more than that, a friend, an ally, a loyal subject…but there was no time to dwell on that now. There was no way he would catch Merlin if he kept halting all the time. His stamina was definitely being tested to the limits even so. Next time he would not eat so much at dinner time. Maybe that was why his manservant was so quick and unfaltering, because he had less meat on him and therefore less weight to carry.

The guards who he was asking nodded and he felt his spirits lift considerably. One of them spoke gruffly.

"Aye, m'lord, he pass'd through them gates abou' five minutes ago, maybe less. If you 'urry you ma' catch 'im ye'."

"Thanks," Arthur nodded once and then set off again. The guards watched him leave, slightly puzzled. They had no idea what was going on but it was quite amusing to see a Prince chase after his servant boy.

* * *

When Arthur finally caught up with his friend it was a surprise to both of them. Merlin had found his favourite spot, sitting, curled up in the gnarled roots of a huge old oak tree like some hibernating hedgehog. Arthur had somehow strayed in the same direction and without realising it, walked over the roots only to trip over a seemingly moving tree limb that turned out to be Merlin's leg. They had ended up sprawled across the ground in a very uncomfortable position. The warlock was quick to regain his feet and hop away from the Prince – wary.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" He asked eventually, as Arthur got over the shock of the fall and gazed at him dazedly. The blond shook his head, trying to wake himself up.

"Because I don't want to! I need to see that you're okay."

"Why do you care whether I'm all right or not? I'm a _mere _servant; you're the prince," Merlin scowled. Arthur desperately felt the need to crack a well-used joke on Merlin's amazing observational skills but thought better of it. This was not the time or the place. He climbed to his feet instead.

"Of course I care, Merlin. You're such an idiot." The Prince realised as the words left his mouth that they were not going to help matters. Merlin just glared at him, a look of hurt disbelief on his face. Arthur tried desperately to backtrack. "I mean…I didn't mean…you know what I mean….Merlin?"

"You think I'm an idiot. You always have and always will," as Merlin said the words they stung him. Arthur felt his heart breaking. "You treat me like dirt; I'm just a stupid serving boy to be shoved around and ordered to do what you want. I do it, yes, because that's my job and you pay me and that money goes back to my mother in Ealdor but there are some things I will not do. You may not think it but I have my dignity – my honour – therefore I will _not _be your _whore_. I may have been your father's but he is King and I was forced. It was closer to rape than anything else. You got that? I won't let _anyone _do that to me _ever _again!"

The anger emanating of the raven haired boy was formidable. Arthur was sure he could feel waves of fury buffeting him from Merlin's sheer presence. Once again he was astonished that the manservant could show such a ferocious emotion. The Prince knew his friend had strong views but he never usually expressed them with rage. This was new and explosive. It was understandable though.

"Merlin, you don't understand!" Arthur began but was interrupted.

"No, you don't understand, Arthur!"

Merlin knew he was getting very angry…and shouting a lot. He couldn't help it though, he was seething and this was a time to let out all his pent up frustration at Uther, at Arthur, at the world. There seemed no way he could stop this outburst: the words just flowed from his mouth like smouldering lava, burning anyone who got in their way – namely Arthur.

This wasn't like him. To have such venomous words – 'a potent tongue' his mother would call it. That had always been the speciality of the unkind girls in his village who called him 'ugly' and 'a freak'. He'd always promised himself he'd never become like them.

And now, looking at the hurt crossing Arthur's pale face, he felt guilty. Maybe he should try and listen to what the man was trying to tell him rather than just cutting him off all the time. Maybe then he would get the answers and the peace he'd been seeking.

With a sudden unnerving immediateness, Arthur's trusted manservant fell completely silent and he watched the prince guardedly – waiting for him to say something. The blond man was at a loss, what did he say, what could make Merlin believe him? What would make him trust him and his words again? There was only one thing for it.

"Merlin….I think….I think I love you," the future king of Camelot whispered to his friend, not quite believing his own ears. He supposed then, it wasn't really a surprise that Merlin acted the way he did.

"Don't _lie_ to me, Arthur!" Merlin shouted, that fury and betrayal once more in his eyes, "_Don't _mock me! I knew you were just like him – manipulative, cold and calculating. You trick everyone into believing what you want them to believe with well placed words – charades! I tried to change you but…but…I can't fufil my destiny anymore!"

That was when the manservant punched his master; his eyes flashed gold and Arthur flew across the clearing and hit a tree with a nauseating thud.

**Duh duh duuuh! I told you there would be a lot angst, hurt and confusion in there. Did I add anger? If I forgot, there you have it! In the form of an irate Merlin! BEWARE!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, I'm taunting you now with the beginning of this chapter, drawing out the wait. I just wanted to do this update before I got down to some serious revision! You should be very happy.**

**Btw, some of you seemed unhappy as to how Merlin reacted last chapter and I was wondering were you just cross at the character in the story or at me for writing it like that? Did you think it OOC? Cos I mean, I think Merlin has a right to be angry and not listen, to be honest. **

Peter wasn't really sure what to do. He was sitting in his master's chambers wrapped in the Prince's own blanket but Arthur himself wasn't even there. There was a horrible feeling of being an intruder in the pit of his stomach. However, he was reluctant to leave. Arthur's bedroom had become almost a second home to him, a safe haven from all things bad in the world – namely Uther.

When he had arrived at the Castle of Camelot he was full of the dreams and aspirations of a naïve village boy, believing he was about to join a legendary household. He had joked with his young friends back home about how he would meet the Great King Uther and persuade him to take him on as a knight where he would battle with Prince Arthur and save the kingdom.

He'd been ecstatic when he had been promoted from his lowly job as messenger boy to Arthur's personal manservant. However, he did feel slightly bad because Merlin had always been the Prince's servant as long as he could remember and the two of them looked to be great friends. Observing them he often felt jealous at their close bond – he believed they would die for one another. It seemed though, that Merlin had moved on. That's why the job offer was open.

On his first night on the job, he found himself summoned from the servant's quarters by the King himself. Thinking that maybe he had been selected for some special task – hopefully including knights and swordplay – Peter had hurried along. When he found out the task Uther wanted him to do he was shocked and appalled. Never before had he touched another man's penis, he hadn't even been with a _girl_, but sucking the King off. It made him feel sick just thinking about it.

Then Arthur had found out. Peter had been stunned at how livid he was when; trembling with pain and fatigue, his manservant had finally admitted what Uther was doing to him. Somehow though, the Prince didn't seem surprised by his father's bedroom antics. He was still furious, especially when he discovered Peter's age. The disbelief and horror on Arthur's face was still burned onto the young boy's memory. His words too:

"_Twelve?_ You're twelve?! Oh my god, this is getting too much. He's a sick, twisted, _dirty _old man! First Mer…..then you! How many other boys is he going to use?" Peter didn't miss the slip of the tongue – he was a quick child.

Peter was eternally grateful to the young prince for helping him after those long and awful nights. He didn't think he would have survived had Arthur not been there to comfort him. It was strange, when he thought of coming to Camelot, he hadn't even thought of actually getting to meet Prince Arthur, let alone coming into his room every night. If the situation wasn't so dire then he would have already been sending letters back to his friend boasting of his relationship with the Prince. They were even on first name terms.

He still didn't know what to do though, alone in the bedroom, did he leave and risk being caught out late at night in the castle or did he stay here and await Arthur's return? Would he ever return? When he had run after Merlin, Peter wasn't sure he was coming back. Unfortunately, it seemed the decision was out of his hands because just then the door opened. King Uther stood in the entrance to his son's bedroom with a peculiar expression on his face.

"What are you doing here, boy?" he finally said. Peter stared at him with wide, scared eyes.

"I-I…." How could he say that every night he'd been coming to Uther's son for comfort and reassurance? Would that get Arthur into trouble? Luckily, the King's brain seemed to be working on a different path to his because suddenly his eyes glinted with amused knowing.

"Ah, so he's throwing insults at me when he's actually doing exactly the same thing behind my back. The sly little snake." Peter reckoned Uther was talking more to himself than him. Although the boy knew what the King was implying he didn't say anything for fear of getting Arthur into trouble. "Well, where is Prince Arthur, boy?"

"Er…."

"Er….what?"

"I don't know, my lord, he left quite awhile ago. I'm waiting for him to return."

"Oh, right," Uther nodded, weighing things up in his head. This was working out better than he'd planned. His son was completely absence. Perfect.

When he had bumped into Arthur earlier in the corridor he'd not really been coming to tell his son to be quiet. He'd actually been sneaking up to his son's chambers to see whether he was asleep in bed or not. If he was then he could carry out his plan in peace. Once he'd checked on the prince he would then carry straight onto the physician's quarters where he would find the boy, Merlin. The King was so desperate for Gaius' ward's touch that he had stretched himself to these lengths.

"I will leave now, if Prince Arthur returns you will tell him nothing of my visit. You understand?"

"Yes, your majesty." The child replied earnestly. He just looked relieved that Uther had asked nothing more of him.

The King turned on his heel and left with a sweep of his cloak.

* * *

Merlin stared for a moment - stunned. The crumpled body of his master lay at the foot of the tree completely motionless. What had he done? With a small whimper of terror, the young manservant hurried over to where his friend was sprawled. Crashing to his knees beside Arthur, Merlin touched him gently, hoping to rouse a response. He hadn't meant to launch the prince across the clearing. Looking back he wasn't even sure why he punched Arthur in the first place. As he gazed forlornly down at the unconscious man it was hard to be angry with him at all. What if he died from something Merlin had done? What would he do then?!

"Merlin?" the voice was quiet and confused. Arthur blinked his eyes dazedly and looked up at his servant who was leaning over him. Then, with some effort, he sat up, trying to ignore the blazing fire in his nose and the back of his head in favour of the comfortably warm heat of Merlin's hands on his shoulder and chest. "What the hell happened?"

"I….punched you," the dark haired boy stated.

"I realised that," Arthur said, subconsciously reaching up to feel how battered his face was. The damage wasn't too bad, he just had a nosebleed. Considering how far he flew across the clearing he would've expected more (well he hadn't inspected the back of his head yet, that could be in worse shape). Still, he couldn't believe that Merlin could pack such a punch.

"I'm sorry." It was strange, Arthur thought as he stared into the guilty face of his friend. This was his normal Merlin, kind and caring, not the one who had been shouting at him just a few minutes earlier. He liked having the normal Merlin back, maybe that meant he was on the long road to forgiveness.

"I guess I deserved it," the prince admitted, "I mean, I just kind of sprang that on you didn't I?"

"Just a bit."

"But Merlin, you _have _to believe me when I say that I never intended to use you and I never did anything with Peter – that boy in my chambers. In your place, Uther had been abusing him too. I was comforting him."

Merlin was silent. His expression pensive.

"I do…love you. I didn't realise before, I just thought you were an annoying servant that I cared too much for. Father always said don't get to attached to servants and I see why he said that now. However, I realised over these past through days just how much I would do for you. I would fight my own father, the King, to make sure you were safe."

Still Merlin made no reply. Arthur wasn't even sure if he'd registered the words.

"Merlin, I know my father hurt you in ways unimaginable and I didn't even realise what was going on; you had to suffer in silence, but I know now and I won't let it happen again. I promise. I love you too much for that."

Silence.

"You know, I never had you down as the mushy type." Merlin's tone was amused.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ah, Blank sky, you have foiled my plan unwittingly with your review of the last chapter. Read on to see why :P**

**I hope this chapter evokes so many reponses as the last did though I doubt it as its not quite so dramatic! In this chapter I tried to give Arthur a bit of angst because Merlin's had all the fun of that so far. :D Its only a tiny bit though so don't worry! Thanks for the reviews!**

Arthur stared at Merlin with a confused expression on his face. He had just admitted all of his innermost feelings to his best friend: a man that he had once fought just because he called him a 'prat' but who had then saved his life in what may have even been the same day. They had had a love hate relationship ever since but both had grudgingly come to realise how much they cared for one another and how much they needed the other one.

That same friend he'd discovered just a _few _days ago was being forcibly made to partake in sexual activities with his perverted father. He had been keeping that secret for weeks, cooped up inside him, and by the looks of things hadn't planned on telling Arthur any time soon. If the prince hadn't stumbled upon them he might not even know now. What a horrible thought: Merlin _still _being abused. At one time Arthur had liked to think that his manservant would tell him his problems but now he wasn't so sure. What other secrets had the raven haired boy hoarded up?

And, returning to his initial thought, he had just revealed exactly how he felt about his manservant; how he viewed him as more than just a friend, and Merlin had merely teased his admittance. That hurt. He had thought that considering how upset the younger man had been he wouldn't take Arthur's words so lightly. In fact, if he was being honest, the prince had hoped for a heartfelt reply in return.

* * *

Merlin watched a series of emotions pass across his master's face. They were hard to decipher but the warlock managed to understand the gist – the underlying feeling of disappointment. It was then that Merlin realised how throwaway his previous comment had been. He had said it in a joking way, in an attempt to break the tension that threatened to overwhelm him, and he'd thought Arthur would appreciate that. Obviously not. Therefore he tried to make amends.

"Well, um…I didn't mean it like that. I know that was hard for you to say…I….damn, Arthur, you know I struggle with words," Merlin shook his head, his shy half smile surfacing as he turned his face away from his master.

"No I don't, I never thought I'd see you stuck for words, Merlin," Arthur retorted, his expression still partly angry but at the same time relaxing as he realised that his friend wasn't about to blow him off again. Merlin finally understood his seriousness. "So…do you believe what I said then? That I never meant to hurt you and that I love you and will do anything for you?"

Merlin looked at the prince again, taking in his sincerity. It was hard to believe this was really Prince Arthur speaking.

"I think I do. I _want _to believe you mean everything you say. I'm not sure that's the same thing. Stupid feelings for you are clouding my judgement." Merlin's last statement was said with a red tinge to his cheeks.

"Let them keep clouding it then, as long as you don't hate me anymore," Arthur smirked slightly.

"You have to admit, you never thought you'd be telling me you love me so you can't really blame me for…you know," the boy gestured at his friend's bloody nose.

"No…maybe not. I didn't know you could hit so hard though." As the prince said this he winced and reached up to the back of his head. Merlin's face darkened with concern and he leant forward quickly, his own hand reaching past Arthur's own to feel the extent of the damage.

"Sit up, Arthur, let me see properly."

"Yes, _doctor_," the blond haired man said sarcastically but complied anyway. He didn't want to do anything to break the sudden ease of their conversation. The quiet after the storm.

He felt pleasantly peaceful with his friend gently prodded the injury on the back of his head. Somehow it didn't hurt so much as Merlin touched him. He was in safe hands. Watching the manservant's concentration and concern over him was heart-warming. The boy may have caused his pain and injury but he was quick to fix it. The Prince didn't believe Merlin had it in him to stay angry for long. That wasn't his nature. However, Arthur did hope he still had some fury smouldering within him against Uther because they had some things to sort out.

* * *

Merlin carefully inspected the crown of his friend's head with tentative fingers. Arthur's hair was sticky with blood – a far cry from its usually soft, glossiness – and there was a nasty looking gash on his scalp but it didn't look _too_ serious. Just painful, the warlock guessed. He was ashamed to have caused the wound. Looking back, he shouldn't have acted so rashly. Arthur had spent the entire time apologising and explaining things to him and had actually plucked up the courage to tell him exactly how deep his feelings ran for Merlin only to have himself thrown at a tree. Yes, in retrospect, the boy should definitely have done things differently – that was hindsight though, it always came too late. He just hoped Arthur wouldn't hold a grudge.

Arthur let out a hiss of pain as Merlin caught a tender piece of skin and the warlock withdrew his hands immediately.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" As the prince glanced at his manservant he sighed, Merlin was asking whether _he'd_ hurt him when Merlin had been hurt so much more and had barely shown any evidence of it.

"No, its fine," Arthur said, shrugging him off. He wanted to return to the conversation at hand. It was important and they'd had enough of an interval.

Merlin raised a dark eyebrow. He didn't understand why people always said that 'I'm fine' or 'its fine' when they so obviously weren't. It was like an automatic response. Still, he could tell by the muscle that was jumping in Arthur's jaw that he wanted to say something significant. Therefore, the young man sat back on his knees and waited expectantly.

"I need to sort one thing out, Merlin…" Arthur began, taking a deep breath, "I love you but do return my feelings? Do _you _love me?" The peak of their relationship was reached – everything would now be made or broken.

"I…..do love you Arthur Pendragon. To begin with I suppose I resented you, then I detested you, then I absolutely _loathed _and hated you, then I put up with you but I guess I grew to like having your company. I'm not really sure when it transformed into love, but it did. I can promise you that much. I do return your feelings and I'm so glad I saved your life at that feast all those months ago." Merlin nodded more to himself than Arthur, as if he was finally admitting something to himself and relieving a great weight from his chest.

In all honesty, Arthur looked quite shocked by his earnest proclamation but he couldn't have been happier. Despite this initial exuberance however, the two of them still had quite a long way to go and several obstacles to pass before they could properly act on their feelings. One of these enormous and vulgar obstacles being none other than the King himself. The Prince felt better prepared though, he had Merlin after all.

* * *

Seeing the relief wash over his master's face and the joy in the way the smile spread across his face sent warmth through the young warlock. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this kind of bond with Arthur. It hadn't come without its gremlins however. That much was obvious in the other man's steadily trickling, crimson nose.

A thought suddenly made itself known with horrible clarity in his head. He and Arthur may have worked out their problems and realised they weren't alone in their feelings towards one another but there was still another party in their relationship: Arthur's father. Uther and his use of Merlin would always hang between them like some dirty taboo subject. There was nothing they could do to change that – short of killing him and that wasn't happening any time soon for although it was Arthur's destiny to become king he wasn't ready yet. The thought of having to face Uther's coldness every day was almost unbearable.

As if he could read his friend's mind, Arthur spoke with force.

"Merlin, don't worry, I'll sort out my father. I promise he won't be able to hurt you again. I've told you that so many times." The Prince's vivid blue eyes burned with their intensity as he put a reassuring hand on his manservant's bony shoulder.

"Thanks, Arthur, but I think it may be a hard promise to keep."


	9. Chapter 9

**Whoop! I've finally got round to writing another chapter! Sorry for the extended wait. I've had ze mocks examens on! :( They suck. On the Brightside...I have no school tomorrow! Doublegoodwhoop! (now I sound like I'm in 1984! :D) cos i gots not exams on that day. Revision though which is poo. **

**Hope you enjoy the chapter and it has enough drama and angst in :) I want to eat pancakes. :/**

Arthur was wracking his brains in an effort to come up with a way; a way that would make his father pay for what he'd done. So far he had nothing. He could not think of anything that would suffice as revenge for the crimes he'd committed. There was not a chance of the prince just leaving it however, Uther _would_ have his comeuppance.

He and Merlin had travelled slowly up to the castle after their argument and then reconciliation. For the most part they'd walked in silence, just enjoying each other's company and the beautiful morning which had broken through the dreary night. Occasionally they exchanged a few words but it was simpler not to. They had a lot of other things on their minds.

Once they reached the castle, they had gone their separate ways: Merlin back to Gaius' chambers and Arthur to the royal wing of the castle in search of his father. The young man wanted to have words. Now he couldn't think of what he wanted to say or do, though, and he was drawing ever closer to Uther's chambers. Maybe he should just wing it – be spontaneous and just say what came to his head in the heat of the moment. That may not work to his advantage, he may find himself speechless in the face of some of his father's colder, unfeeling words and that would not achieve anything. He should really plan. The young man had paused in the corridor and that's where he was now – pondering.

* * *

Merlin's heart was feeling considerably lighter than it had been in months. He walked with a spring in his step. His head was fuzzy with the euphoria of discovering his master's feelings for him. Now he held a better outlook on the world – the future didn't look quite as bleak. Yes, he would still have to see Uther everyday and withstand his lewd comments and disgusting manner. Merlin was sure that he would be haunted by those dark memories for the rest of his life, that couldn't be changed, but maybe, with Arthur on side, he could try and move on. Push the memories to the back corner of his mind.

The manservant was pondering how he would inform his carer and mentor, Gaius, of his newfound relationship with Arthur. He doubted whether his uncle would ever believe it. In anyone else's eyes the length of their bond would be absurd. It wasn't that gay relationships weren't permitted in Camelot – not like magic – it's that they were rare and usually secret. For the Prince to take part in such a relationship, that wouldn't go down well. He was meant to find a girl, marry her and have lots of little babies (preferably sons). However, if Arthur was being sincere in his love for Merlin, that didn't seem likely. But they would face that hurdle when it came. No use worrying now.

As he pushed the door to the physician's quarters open, he frowned. There was no one there. He couldn't see the old doctor anywhere. Strange. At this time in the morning, Gaius would usually be pottering around getting medicines and salves ready for his patients during the day. But for some reason or other he wasn't. Therefore it seemed Merlin wouldn't be telling his guardian his news yet.

Feeling suddenly exhausted after the night's adventures, the raven haired boy wandered slowly over to his bedroom door. The small flight of steps up to the room looked like a mini-mountain in his tired eyes and he had to drag his leaden legs up with dogged determination. Thinking of collapsing onto his bed was all that was on his mind, so when he walked into the room he took a few seconds to register there was someone standing there already. Merlin blinked twice, startled.

Uther's silvery grey hairs caught the sunlight streaming in through a high window and shimmered like the scales of a fish. His eyes glittered with excitement when he spotted Merlin. The warlock was too stunned to move or say anything. That gave the King time to stride across the room and grab the youth, forcing him back against the wall. Needless to say, Merlin struggled but Uther was strong and driven by lust and could not be stopped.

To stop the manservant from squirming annoyingly in his grip, the older man brought one hand up to his neck and held it there, crushing his windpipe. Merlin choked, his breathing becoming more difficult. With the rest of his body, Uther pushed his weight into his victim – pinning him in place. Merlin could feel hot, stale breath on his face and cringed visibly. Not only that, but he could feel the King's very hard erection pressing into his thigh.

"So nice of you to join me, boy," Uther said, his voice laced with desire. Merlin wanted to be sick. "I've been waiting ages and you didn't come. But now you're here." A twisted smile made its way onto the man's face. "We can finish what we started that night my son discovered us."

"No," Merlin whispered with what little breath he could squeeze from his lungs.

"You will do what I say," Uther practically growled – he was an animal now, an animal that needed quenching. "I am King and if you do not comply I _will _kill you."

The warlock was torn between the options, although he had little desire to die, he believed that even that would be better than this. Before he could voice his opinion, however, Uther had latched onto his throat, biting hard and drawing blood. Obviously all the sexual pressure had become too much for him. Merlin let out a hiss of pain. In times before, Uther's intentions on him had been purely clinical and for the King's own pleasure. Now he was doing something else. He actually _wanted _Merlin – all of him. There was no way that the boy would reciprocate; once again he wriggled but to no avail.

"If you will not comply, I will take you by force." Uther seemed to have rethought his previous ultimatum, realising that he would be able to _have _the manservant if he killed him. "But you will tell my son nothing of this. Ever. Do you understand?" Merlin merely gurgled incoherently, his throat had become even more constricted in the King's fist and his face was now as white as a sheet with a blue tint. Uther ignored that fact and returned to his savage attack on the boy's face and neck.

With his other hand, he reached down between their bodies and shoved his hand in Merlin's trousers. His wandering hand found a flaccid member. Frowning with irritation, the older man attempted to stroke it into an erection. Nothing happened.

"Get off me!" Merlin begged, finally managing to speak through his predicament. Once again he tried to push Uther's large frame off him, his weak arms pressing feebly into his assailant's sturdy stomach. It had crossed the boy's mind that he should really use magic if he wanted to escape this violent rape. That was the only way. Obviously that would mean revealing just who he was but he wasn't sure he cared anymore. Anything would be worth getting Uther's hot, sweaty paws off him and his hand out of his trousers. The warlock froze, concentrating, as he readied to blast the King off him with a flash of his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello again. This is a remarkably swift update for me so be very grateful. I'm expecting lots of thanks in the reviews :D ;) lol**

**Thank you for the reviews! The few of you that are left reading this story thank you for the support. I doubt there are many chapters left in the story. :/ So I hope you enjoy them. Just so you know in advance I won't be killing Uther and I doubt I'll reveal Merlin's magic but we'll see. Hmm... **

**Really really should be revising for Latin, French and Maths now as I have all of them tomorrow and my mum would kill me if she knew I wasn't revising. Its just so boring and I don't know what to revise for any of them. I mean, what do you revise for a Latin unseen paper? I mean, its _unseen_ therefore shouldnt you not revise? (sorry double negative) :D **

**Anyhoo, REVIEW! PLEASE!**

Peter barrelled down the corridor. His eyes were wide and fearful. Dreadful thoughts swirled through his mind like bad storm. Then he caught sight of Prince Arthur standing in the passage, his back against the rough stone wall, with an expression of concentration on his handsome face. Peter ran faster.

"Sire!" he cried as he skidded to an inelegant halt beside the Prince. He was met with a startled pair of blue eyes. "Sire, I think I did something terrible." Arthur looked instantly concerned.

"Tell me, Peter."

"Well, he told me not to tell you but..." Peter began and then seemed to realise what he was saying and what trouble he would get into with the King. It was too late now, idiot, he mentally berated himself, Arthur knew he had done something.

"Who told you what?"

"Uther, King Uther," the boy burst out, "He came to your chambers when you weren't they. He asked where you were. I said you had left but I didn't know where you were. Then he looked really happy and told me not to tell you he had come. I'm sorry for not finding you sooner but I was scared."

Arthur stared for a few seconds, struggling to channel the information he had just been given into coherent ideas. Uther had been searching for him last night but why? And then he seemed happy he was gone? Why would that be? Was there something that Uther could only do if Arthur was not present, nowhere close by to stop him? Then the most vulgar thought crossed the Prince's mind and his throat constricted with absolute fear. Merlin. Uther had been making sure Arthur was asleep or away so he could have a go at Merlin in peace. And where had Arthur just sent Merlin? Back to his chambers where the King would be waiting.

With this revelation, the Prince shouted a quick thank you to Peter and shot of down the corridor faster than a speeding arrow. The boy watched him go with a bewildered expression on his young face. All he could think now was that he'd done his duty to his master and there was nothing more he could do. Feeling utterly drained, the youth headed for the servant's quarters.

* * *

_Would he get there in time? Would Uther have already attacked Merlin and had his dirty way?_ Images of Uther leaping on the manservant as he entered his chambers plagued Arthur as he cannoned through the castle. He imagined the King's vile hands violating the defenceless Merlin. It made him want to vomit. He could not let that happen _again_. He had to get there in time.

The door was in sight and Arthur charged through, not caring about knocking at all. There was no time for manners in an emergency. Wasn't that what Merlin had always told him when he failed to rap on _his_ door? Finding the main room deserted, the Prince heard terrible noises coming from Merlin's own bedroom. They sounded distinctly like moans of pleasure. Was he too late?

Leaping up the steps, Arthur braced himself for anything he might see as he stepped through the door. He spotted the two of them, a larger figure swamping a smaller one, against the far wall. The blonde man could not even see Merlin behind Uther's broad back. He could hear the small protest of his manservant's however. "Get off me!" After hearing this, the Prince sprang across the room and grabbed his father's shoulders, yanking him backwards. What he had thought was a strong tug that would pry the King away seemed to gain explosive energy as the two of them flew across the room. Arthur was stunned by their flight. How on earth had that happened? He thought nothing more of it however.

He sat up, shoving his father's heavy weight off him with ferocious force, and climbed to his feet. His eyes sought Merlin and he saw the young man leaning against the wall, his chest heaving with desperately needed breaths, his entire body drenched in sweat and his face pale and smattered with blood. Taking in the state of his friend, Arthur missed the subtle transition of his eyes as they shifted from glimmering golden to sky-blue.

"Merlin," the Prince murmured, hurrying over to the weak man's side and offering his arm in support. The raven haired boy leant gratefully on him, lungs still battling to draw in air through his damaged throat. Each breath shuddered through Merlin's body and Arthur felt it with disturbing clarity. He didn't miss the purpling skin on his manservant's neck either which suggested the reason for Merlin's frantic inhalation pattern. That just served to anger him even more – his blood was already at boiling point. "You all right?"

"What do you think?" Merlin whispered, his voice rasping. The warlock looked completely spent.

"Sorry, stupid question," Arthur said before reaching up to touch Merlin's neck, wiping away a dribble of blood. For once, the man did not shy away. "He hurt you." At that statement he received a nod. "Did he…?" Trailing off, Arthur did not know how to phrase his question. Fortunately, Merlin seemed to understand and he shook his head wearily, closing his eyes. "Good."

Seeing that Merlin was in a state of shock, Arthur decided to turn his attention on his father who was still sprawled on the floor. His older body had not borne the brunt of the fall – Arthur's had – but his was more fragile and stiff. Therefore he was finding it harder to find his feet. There was no way that the Prince was going to give him a hand up though, let him suffer, besides it made the conversation he wanted to have much easier.

With the upper hand, Arthur addressed his father. Suddenly all the things he wanted to say to his father had formed in his mind.

"You are a worm," he started, his face full of contempt, "A maggot on the face of this earth. I always looked up to you, you know that. You were my father, the King, and I revered you. You never reciprocated my feelings, barely ever showed an ounce of pride or emotion at all. I decided that you were just not a very good father but you were a good King so that was all that mattered. However, when I discovered you had begun to take young men to your bed, my view of you as a good King slowly faded. And that night, when I found that you had taken _my _manservant, Merlin, my most loyal and trusted friend to bed and forced him to do things he didn't want to, that altered my opinion _completely_. Thanks to you, I almost lost my bond with him because _you _had hurt him so much – beyond belief."

Arthur paused in his speech, offering his father a glare as sharp as his sword, before continuing.

"I thought that was the end of it. I believed Merlin was safe. I didn't even think that you would continue taking men to your bed. No, not men, boys. Peter, a boy who came to this castle because he wanted to make good of himself and believed this was the place to do it, was mercilessly raped by you. He's _twelve _years old! Does that not mean anything to you?"

Merlin's ears had perked up at the mention of Peter and he gazed at Arthur for a few moments before closing his eyes once more.

"And then I find you here, once again trying to violate my friend in the worst possible way! Are you an insatiable beast?! An _animal_ in rut? No, you are just a sick old man who longs for the bodies of young men. That is wrong. Now, I want you to know that if you _ever _hurt Merlin or Peter again or any other child for that matter then I will tell the entire kingdom of your sordid affairs."

"You wouldn't _dare_!" Uther finally found his tongue to speak. His voice a disbelieving hiss. Arthur stared back, his eyes granite-like.

"Oh wouldn't I?"

Merlin listened his friend confront his father with such intensity and ferocity, it shocked him. He didn't think he'd ever heard Arthur so livid before and it was all over him. That was really amazing. The Prince of Camelot, heir to the throne, was willing to fight his own father on behalf of Merlin – a mere servant boy. A mere servant boy that he loved, Merlin reminded himself. That fact still stunned him even now. This speech by Arthur showed just how deep that love ran.

Uther stared at his son, obviously taken aback by his rage and declarations. Suddenly his eyes darkened with malice and a small smile spread across his face.

"You're just angry because I'm on your turf," the King smirked, "You want that boy for yourself. All you had to do was ask, my son, I would be only too happy to concede him. It is nice we share some of the same interests."

If it was possible, Arthur looked even angrier than he had before: the tendons stood out like taut bow-strings on his neck and his blue eyes became stormy seas of raging waves.

"Merlin means nothing of the same things to me as he does to you," the blonde man growled.

"How so? Don't lie to me, Arthur; I can see it in your eyes. You want him just as much as I do." Uther was revelling in his new-found power over his son. He could tell he'd struck a nerve.

"Merlin means much more to me than he could ever to you. I don't wish to use his body. I love him for who he is; he is my friend, my ally and my lover. I _love _him. You got that? Not because I want to have sex with him but because I like his personality, I like to spend time with him and I couldn't stand it if he got hurt. I couldn't imagine being without him."

Uther smiled sadistically and turned towards

"You hear that, Merlin, my _son_ is in love with you? How long do you reckon that will last? As Prince he expected to marry and provide an heir for the kingdom. Soon he will be casting you away for some pretty girl."

There was no reply. Merlin's eyes remained firmly closed, his frame sagging against the stone.

"You'll just be a bit on the side, to be used when he wants quick casual sex. Do you really think he'll love you forever?" Uther was obviously trying to provoke a reaction and Arthur was worried that he would succeed – what if Merlin believed his horrid words? Arthur knew he would never do such things but did his friend?

There was silence in the room as both father and son waited for the manservant to react. The warlock was aware of two pairs of eyes on him.

"He may not love me forever but I will love him," the raven haired boy suddenly spoke – his voice strong and unwavering – and still his eyes were shut, "I will love him until the day I die." The youth shrugged as if everyone should already know that fact without needing to ask.

**Sorry, its a bit soppy... **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note - Thank you very much for all your very kind reviews, they have kept me going all this time up until this point and I'm very glad you've stuck with me. Sorry the update took so long but I've had exams so things got a bit hectic. **

**Anyway, I believe this may be the last chapter so don't be too disappointed that I don't spurn out more. Unfortunately, I haven't castrated Uther no matter how much some of you guys wanted him to be. You may not like the ending but I thought it fitted with both Arthur's and Merlin's characters. Please give one final review with your opinion of the whole thing. Thanks. **

Arthur stared at his manservant for a moment, not quite believing his ears, since when had Merlin become so sincere? Not that he minded, in fact, the prince was truly over the moon – ecstatic – especially when he saw they expression on his father's face. Uther looked thunder-struck, his mouth hanging wide open and his stance losing its confidence. The raven haired boy had just taken all the king had said and thrown it back in his face; not one insult or jibe had managed to upset or hurt him. Obviously the manservant was tougher than he looked.

Merlin himself was still yet to open his eyes. It was as if he was too exhausted to bother, or maybe he just didn't want to lay sight on Uther – the man who had almost ruined his life – again. Either way, Arthur knew he was going to say no more in this conversation. Therefore it was up to him to set down the rules for the future.

"Father," the prince turned to the older man with a fierce look in his eyes, "You better understand that I _will_ tell your secrets to the people if you do not leave all your old ways behind. And if you _ever _do anything else to hurt Merlin…." Pausing for effect Arthur glared at Uther. "Then mark my words, I will seek revenge."

Uther didn't look like he could quite believe his own son was turning against him, even threatening to kill him, for a mere servant boy. There was some feeling of regret in the back of his mind, that he'd alienated his child so much, after all he'd done to conceive him. However, he doubted there was any thing he could ever do to repair their relationship.

"Arthur…" he began.

"I don't want to hear it. I will continue to help you with the kingdom and the people but that will be in the capacity of the Prince of Camelot; not as your son." With that icy statement Arthur's mouth became a thin line and he turned away from the King. Uther looked outraged but there was little he could do; Arthur was heir to the throne by blood. He didn't like being made or ordered to do things by other people.

Seeing that he would not be able to win the argument today, Uther stormed from the room, his fists clenched tightly by his side. The door slammed loudly behind him. Arthur watched him go, his eyes lingering on the empty space which his father had once occupied. Something inside him could not quite fathom how he had stood up to the King of Camelot and won – for now. The future would be hard, just as Merlin had foretold.

With that though reminding him of the manservant, Arthur walked over to his friend, cautious, wondering how he would be received. As he approached within a couple of feet of the boy, Merlin spoke.

"Thank you," he breathed. Arthur was perplexed.

"For what?"

"For saving me from Uther."

"Oh, it was nothing."

"Thanks anyway."

"Are you sure you are okay?" The prince was concerned by his friend's weakened state.

"I'm fine, Arthur, just a little shocked." Merlin finally opened his eyes and the prince allowed himself a sigh of relief. A pair of startling blue eyes stared into his own and they sparkled with happiness. He felt a warm smile spread across his lips in return. Then he said, a shy expression flitting across his face, "I'm glad to know you think so much of me. That'd you'd be willing to fight Uther for me. I could never have dreamed…" He tailed off, words failing him.

"Like you said before, Merlin, the fight is far from over," Arthur answered seriously, "We can't escape Uther but if we stick together then I think things will be all right."

"I'm prepared," Merlin nodded.

"Prepared for bed," his friend added, seeing Merlin was dead on his feet, and led the young man over to his bed, gently helping him into it. The manservant sank between the covers and then paused, watching his friend.

"Are you going to go?"

"No."

"Good."

* * *

Peter was ecstatic. He was riding a horse! But not just any old horse, this horse belonged to Arthur Pendragon himself. It was a beautiful thoroughbred creature with smooth velvety chestnut flanks and bright, alert eyes. The Prince called his Aster which meant star. Sitting atop his broad back, the boy felt as if he could jump the highest hurdle, chase the fastest stag and lead an army into battle – all at once. His heart swelled with pride and happiness.

Glancing over the paddock, he spotted the owner of the horse himself. The golden haired man was leaning nonchalantly against the enclosure fence. His clothes were casual: a loose red shirt and black trousers thrown haphazardly on. That may be because of his lack of a servant however. Behind him, on the wooden fence, perched another young man – his former servant – raven haired and pale skinned. People would call him the Prince's best friend, his greatest ally, a wise advisor; Peter would call Merlin Arthur's lover.

Kicking his borrowed ride into a powerful but perfectly smooth canter, the boy took off round the enclosure – churning up dirt and dust as he went. Horse and child sped passed their two observers as no more than a brownish blur.

"He's getting better," Merlin commented as he watched the boy's movements.

"Hmm….much," Arthur nodded in agreement.

Peter had never ridden before he came to Camelot so the prince had thought it would be good for him to learn. In past lessons which Arthur had imparted on his student, Peter had ridden normal stable horses. However, as a treat, the young man had agreed the boy could mount his own steed. Obviously, being only twelve, Peter was a bit too small for the animal but he was coping relatively well. There had only been a couple of spills and a few bruises so far.

Arthur felt pressure on his shoulders and realised that his friend had leant forward from his perch to press his hands on Arthur for balance. The prince raised an eyebrow in surprise and coughed pointedly. Merlin just blew the hair on top of his head so the golden locks went the wrong way – sticking up randomly. Shuddering, Arthur shook himself to rid himself of the tingles that travelled down his spine. How could Merlin be so irritating and yet so arousing?

"How's your father?" Merlin suddenly asked from behind and Arthur froze, his expression falling. "Is he still ill?"

"He's dying," the Crowned Prince spat.

"Well…that's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"Was it? I don't know. I think he's just doing it to make me feel guilty – so I feel I must reconcile. On his deathbed I'm supposed to hold no grudges." Arthur spoke with complete contempt at his father's manipulations.

"It's your choice, Arthur, you don't have to do anything for him," Merlin replied, his sky-blue eyes soft with love and affection.

"I know, but…"

"But after all this time you haven't talked with him unless absolutely necessary and you feel that you don't _really _want him to go without saying goodbye? I understand, Arthur. What happened is in the past, we've all moved on."

"Have _you_ though, Merlin? I don't want to hurt you even more, now you're near the end of the road of recovery."

"Arthur, its fine, _I'm _fine."

The warlock gripped onto his lover's shoulders and spun him round so they were facing. He stared firmly into Arthur's eyes, making sure he got the message, Merlin had put the past behind him – well, as behind him as it could go. Scars never completely faded.

Once he had the prince's attention, Merlin jumped off the fence and kissed him. Their lips ghosted each other and then pressed more firmly – slightly parted. It was sweet and heartfelt and just what Arthur needed. He drew back smiling.

"Merlin, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me," Arthur stated, his expression sincere.

"And you to me. Now…." Merlin paused, taking a deep breath, "Go say goodbye to your father."

**I kind of thought that Merlin is the forgiving-ish type. Obviously he won't ever forget what Uther did but I think he's strong enough to move on, with Arthur's help. I also thought it would be wrong if Arthur didnt say any goodbye to Uther. As you can see, to please some of you I have killed Uther so our fav couple are free! Sorry I didn't include any sex scenes between Arty and Merly, can't write them....*shrugs* REVIEW ONE LAST TIME!**


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